


True colors

by daisybelle



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Child Death, Death of an OC, M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybelle/pseuds/daisybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt: The world has sunken into a deep mistrust and sometimes outright hatred of superheroes due to their building leveling feuds both with villainous forces and with each other. Tony, retired from Iron Man duties and now less active in the dealings of Stark Industries, is paid a visit by Steve Rogers who had gone into hiding. Why is he showing his face now? And why to Tony Stark of all people? Angsty overtone with a happy ending please!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaster/gifts).



“What are you doing?”

 

She barely glanced up, looking at him standing in the doorway.

 

“What does it look like?” She asked and made absolutely no effort to hide the rolling of her eyes.

 

“Are you leaving me?”

 

She snorted at the disbelief in his voice, but wasn’t surprised by it. Too often had he painted himself as god’s gift to women, thought that his money and his connections made him interesting and attractive. Almost never listened to her, regardless what topic. If she was lucky she received a condescending explanation why she was wrong. Whatever it had been that she found attractive once, right now she just wanted to leave.

 

“Yes, I am. Why are you so surprised? I told you I would.”

 

He watched her silently as she collected the last of her possessions. To an outsider it probably would have been an obvious sign of the state of their relationship that she only had a few things in the apartment despite several months of practically living together. Hell, she usually managed to distribute her belongings more effectively in any hotel room she stayed. But right now, she was just glad that she didn’t need much time to gather everything. A last look around, a last walk through his apartment but there was nothing. He followed her silently, glaring daggers at her.

 

Yes, everything was packed, besides one thing. She grabbed one of her shirts out of the bag to wrap the picture frame from the side board. It had been taken at the beginning of their relationship and she was always reminded of the butterflies in her tummy and sunshine kisses. He had never understood why she liked this picture so much, claimed that he was barely in it. And in a way he was right. They were both framing Captain America, his arms resting on both of their shoulders. And although the Captain did nothing extraordinary, his smile almost shy, he captured the attention of the viewer. Despite the end of her relationship she wouldn’t leave this behind. A picture of Captain America was still worth something and the third person in the picture could easily be folded away.

 

She put the picture in the bag, mentally running once again through the place and trying to remember if there was anything else and ignoring the angry glares he sent at her.

 

“You are leaving me for him?” He finally spoke again.

 

It was more an accusation than a question and she could just shake her head at this ridiculousness.

 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

 

“I knew it,” he exclaimed.

 

Ah, yes, he had never understood her sarcasm. Not her problem anymore.

                                                                                                                                                               


	2. Chapter 2

One year later

 

_Another day and we are standing here, once again facing the destruction left behind by the Avengers and their unregulated fight for justice. It seems that they don’t even care anymore that they are destroying the homes, the workshops, the businesses of those people they claim to protect. Most of the home owners don’t have the funds to rebuild their houses and insurance companies have stopped ages ago to provide any coverage. Even worse the Avengers are obviously getting unstable. Here we can see footage of Hawkeye getting in an argument with a man in a wheelchair before he is pulled away by former spy Nathasha Romanova. Hawkeye whom several renowned psychoanalysts diagnose with lingering effects of the mind control by Loki …_

“Can’t be that renowned if they resort to telediagnosis,” Tony murmured as he swung his hammer enthusiastically on the piece of metal in front of him, drowning out the reporter with steady blows. For some reason watching the news lately made him aggressive and he wasn’t even watching FOX. His self-therapy was interrupted by Friday.

“Sir, Ms. Potts for Mr. Edward Krats.”

 

Tony Stark dropped the hammer and grabbed a cloth to clean his hands somewhat, before he muted the television with a wipe of his hand.

 

“Okay, you know what to do,” he accepted the call.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

As far as aliases go Edward Krats was certainly not the most elaborate, but it had the advantage that it had been in use since his childhood, when his father and Obie wouldn’t want the world to know that a mere child was responsible for some of SI’s inventions. Instead Edward Krats had been created and now when the board and the public both had requested rather loudly Tony Stark’s withdrawal from Stark Industries it came in handy to have another genius in the backhand, especially one who had already worked for Howard Stark. A little voice modulation and rerouting phone calls on his part, a little story telling on Pepper’s and everybody was eager to believe in the existence of another genius who preferred no personal contact whatsoever to his employer.

 

“Edward Krats speaking. How are you, Ms. Potts?”

 

“Good day, Mr. Krats. I’m fine, thank you for asking. How are you?”

 

“I’m good. I’m almost ready with the new StarkPad you requested and I had some other ideas for marketable electronics. I’ll send you a proposal within the afternoon.”

 

“Oh, thank you Mr. Krats. That’s good to hear. Listen, I’m sitting with the board right now, they have some questions regarding the StarkPad based on your last specifications. Since I’m not a technician I thought it would be best if you could explain it directly.”

 

Tony paused. Pepper was indeed not a technician, but she usually worked as his spokesperson to the board, selling them his ideas. But since Ultron Pepper had a harder time getting them to follow her lead. They had questioned every single one of her propositions, questioned her judgment. The fact that the public did the same didn’t help. Public appearances of them as a couple turned into media spectacles and Pepper had a hunted look in her beautiful eyes that he had never seen before. It was then when he decided to take a break, to disappear from the public eye. And it was the final straw to their relationship. Tony was by no means an expert for interpersonal relationships, but he knew Pepper, saw that she wasn’t happy and that he was the reason for it. When he offered the end of their relationship, he had seen the relief behind her tears.

 

Since then they kept their distance, talked only on the phone. But sometimes, when they were not talking as Edward Krats and CEO, but as Tony and Pepper, he could already hear the same lightness their friendship had before they made it more. And in every photo he saw of her, she looked – maybe not happy – but content. Declaring the break-up publicly helped her getting her standing back and by now it seemed as if the board was back in her hand. So her request was a little surprising at least.

 

His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed on the other end.

 

“Mr. Krats?”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Potts. I was just collecting my thoughts,” Tony returned to conversation smoothly, “so, gentlemen, what are your questions?”

 

“As I understand it, the new StarkPad is based on the special edition of the StarkPhone we received for testing purposes last year?”

 

“Yes, that’s correct,” Tony answered with a sense of unease.

 

“Well, I’m not sure we should sell this. It’s based on the Ultron routines and killing StarkPhones and StarkPads is the last what the world needs.”

 

His unease changed into anger and he had to grit his teeth to not say out loud the first things that came to his mind. He absolutely hated that every time one of his inventions was mentioned it always boiled down to Ultron regardless that none of Ultron’s actual code was anywhere in his other inventions and even more important none of them had become self-dependent killer robots.

 

He managed to answer calmly besides the anger burning inside of him.

 

“The code in those StarkPhones and StarkPads is definitely not based on Ultron. The phones have a learning structure that adapts the phone’s privacy settings to its user’s needs. It can’t develop any further, there are several security measurements in place to avoid exactly this scenario. However, this was a special version developed for people who have a higher need of privacy like the president of the United States. The version we try to sell only uses a simplified code that doesn’t change.”

 

“But everybody could use the phone’s code to create murder phones.”

 

“Everybody who can modify my code to make it as you call it a ‘murder phone’ is also able to write the code to do so himself,” Tony snapped.

 

Pepper certainly heard that his patience hung on a very thin thread.

 

“Gentlemen, has any of your phones tried to murder you or someone else?”

 

The silence was answer enough.

 

“Well, as far as I know, Ultron developed his murderous tendencies quite soon after he was created. Since we are still alive, I’d say those phones are safe. And since the phones for the public will have a downgraded version of this technology I assume humanity must find other ways to kill itself.”

 

The swell of noise indicated that some of SI’s directors tried to contradict her, but Pepper pulled another ace out her sleeve.

 

“Unless you want Mr. Stark to look over these codes, I would suggest you accept Mr. Krats explanation.”

 

The phone call ended soon after that and left Tony with the helpless anger of someone who is a persona non grata in a company that bore his name.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was relieved that the little coffee shop he had found during one of his morning runs was still there and hadn’t changed at all. After coming back from 70 years of ice he preferred some things remaining the same even if this kind of wishful thinking would give some of his friends enough fodder for old-age-jokes. Not that any of those friends was around, he had left them behind when he had quit the Avengers after …

 

He shied back from following this thought to its end, knowing too well that he would probably return immediately into hiding if he thought too much about it. Instead he concentrated on the board with their selection of coffees although as always he ordered a simple black coffee. It was still early, but the morning crowd was already on its caffeine hunt. Luckily for him most of them ordered their coffee to go so he easily found a free table.

 

He took one of the free newspapers intending to use it as a polite signal to be left alone so that he could plan his next steps, but an article about the Avengers caught his eye. He started reading it only to stop disgusted a few lines in when he learnt that Hawkeye had been suspended for his argument with the civilian. So now the Avengers were down to three with Natasha as the only founding member still active. And unfortunately Natasha was still no media darling, refused to play their games.

 

“Yeah, a spy and the media don’t seem like an ideal combination.”

 

When Steve looked up Tony was returning his gaze calmly.

 

For some reason Steve had missed him the most, even though Tony had been the one to leave even before everything had started to fall apart. Or maybe he was the reason why everything was now a big mess. Maybe Tony had been the one to tie them all together. Steve had thought of contacting Tony, but didn’t know how, didn’t know if he was still allowed to. And now he was standing in front of him and it was such a shock in the best of ways.

 

“Ready to go, Cap?”

 

Steve hadn’t finished his coffee, but he was pretty sure that wherever Tony would lead him, coffee wouldn’t be far away. He just nodded and picked up his bag and jacket while following Tony out of the shop to his car. It was one of the non-descript cars nobody knew Tony owned, looking like a family van on the outside but having every gadget Tony could imagine on the inside.

 

“How did you find me?,” Steve asked as soon as they were on their way.

 

“I always knew where you were. Just hadn’t any means of contacting you in a cabin in the woods.”

 

“You could have written a letter,” Steve only half joked.

 

“I’m not sure if I even own a pen. Besides letters can be opened.”

 

Steve acknowledged this point with a slight nod.

 

“And I knew you would turn up some day sooner or later.”

 

“How?”

 

“An attack on the Avengers? How could you not?”

 

“So, it’s not only me …” He didn’t know how to finish this sentence. It had seemed so far-fetched, but hearing Tony saying the same…

 

“No, someone is messing with the Avengers.”

 

He turned to look at Tony and their eyes met and something hard in his stomach loosened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter describes the death of a child, not explicitly but probably enough for anybody who is triggered by this.

They arrived at a Brownstone in Brooklyn of all places, no trace of the glass and steel that made Stark Tower so distinctively modern. Instead this house looked like the homes of Steve’s childhood and his artistic eye collected the wrought-iron window boxes, the carefully crafted decorations on the plaster while they waited for the garage door to open. Just as he was about to comment on the lack of high tech so far, the seemingly ordinary wall in front of them turned into a window wall to Tony’s workshop. It was not as spacious as the tower’s or what he imagined the Malibu house’s workshop must have been, but the tech he saw right in front of him looked still right out of one of those science fiction movies he had watched in the last few months.

 

“Do you want a tour or start right away?”

 

Steve found himself curious what Tony would and could do with a house like this, but this was not a social call and their relationship never developed far beyond a comradeship between fellow Avengers. A fact that he had regretted several times since Tony had left the Avengers. He had been right though, he had missed him and on more levels that he expected.

 

“Let’s start right away.”

 

“Okay, Dummy start the coffee. Friday give me project ‘Cap DB’ on the screen.”

 

“Cap DB?” Steve asked but before Tony could answer the screen was filled with images from his worst nightmare, the reason why he left the Avengers in the first place.

 

He saw himself mid-moving, cowl in place, shield in full swing and the pram right in its way. He watched the impact, the immediate destruction of the pram, the small body flying in the air. He could hear the swoosh of his shield, heard the scream of the mother, his own harsh breathing until the body hit the ground and it didn’t make a sound but all the noises stopped and everything seemed frozen in place.

 

Steve stared at the body, at the lifeless form and it took him a while to realize that he was not frozen in place, that he was in fact staring at a video clip that was frozen until he wasn’t. Until brown eyes moved in his line of sight, worried and so deep that he felt drowning in them. Slowly he registered Tony’s hands on his face; then his words, calling out for him.

 

“Cap, Cap, come on, Steve, Cap, it wasn’t your fault. Cap, look at me, Steve, Steve, please, Steve.”

 

And it was the ‘please’ that did it because Tony Stark didn’t beg like that, not in this serious tone. He took a deep breath, the air shakily leaving his lungs, and he did it again until he felt able to withdraw from the warmth of Tony’s hands, stable enough to take a step back. He could still feel Tony’s fingers on his face, wanted to take a step forward, but instead forced himself to stay still.

 

“You are wrong, it was my fault. I should have …”

 

He was immediately interrupted.

 

“It wasn’t your fault. Cap, believe me, there was nothing you could have done.”

 

“But it was, Tony, it was. A baby should never be collateral damage, I should have reacted faster. I don’t know I should have seen the pram. I just …”

 

“The pram was pushed in your way,” Tony said calmly and how could he say something so horrible so calmly. It took a moment for those words to really come through the cloud of self-hate.

 

“It’s still my fault.”

 

“Cap!”

 

It was ‘don’t doubt me’, ‘why are you so stubborn?’ and ‘I can understand you’ all in one word. For a moment Steve allowed the understanding to settle him, knowing from Natasha’s dossier and even more from seeing Tony after Ultron that he had enough demons of his own to see them in Steve. But still.

 

“Even if the pram was pushed in my way, I should have reacted better. Earlier at least,” he argued.

 

Tony had to have heard something in his tone, because some of the compassion in his gaze was replaced by curiosity.

 

“Earlier?”

 

Steve turned around, away from the warmth. He was not sure how to explain the other aspect of his guilt, but sure that he had to do it.

 

“I received letters,” he started.

 

“Letters?”

 

Steve took a deep breath. “Letters that claimed if I wouldn’t step down from the Avengers I would regret it. I didn’t took them seriously at first, but after …,” he faltered, “well, after this incident,” he gestured to the screen, “I received another letter, saying ‘I told you so’ that it wasn’t over.”

 

“That’s why you stepped down?”

 

Steve looked back at Tony, but the other man’s face was unreadable.

 

“Yes. I couldn’t let something like this happen again.”

 

“Do you still have the letters?”

 

“The last one.” Steve took the letter out of his jacket. “As I said, I didn’t take them seriously, so I threw the others away.”

 

He laid the letter on a small container next to him. Tony flashed him a small smile before he took the letter turning it around in his hands as if to understand its concept. He read it and then spread it out on one of the desks.

 

“Friday, scan it and start searching.”

 

“What am I looking for, Sir?”

 

“The usual: type of paper, printer, anything interesting in the word choice, spelling, other traces, you know the spiel.”

 

“Sir, may I point out that any traces could be transferred from Captain Rogers since he had this letter in his possession.”

 

“Well, any traces that can’t be explained by Captain Roger’s behavior.”

 

“Very well, Sir.”

 

It was strange for Steve hearing Tony being relatively formal to his new AI. With Jarvis he had always been playful, but there was still something missing in Tony’s relationship to Friday. But then Jarvis had been around Tony for years, it was hard to forget something like that. Maybe it was some kind of grieving mechanism.

 

“By the way, the baby was already dead.”

 

Steve’s head snapped up.

 

“What?”

 

Tony turned back to him.

 

“Friday analyzed the complete footage of …,” he hesitated and then gestured to the screen where there was still the frozen picture of him and the baby on the street, “… of this and we are 90 % sure the baby was already dead when the pram was shoved in your path.”

 

He flicked his hand and the picture turned, he rewound the footage, followed the path of the pram until they got a glimpse in it and Steve had to close his eyes for a moment, while Tony pointed to the child, “no discernable breath pattern and I doubt a baby could sleep through the noise of a battle,” he moved the footage forward, “it doesn’t wake up when you hit the pram with the shield”, he moved it even further until the child was floating in the air and then maximized it and pointed to some dark spots on the baby’s body, “I’m not a medical man but I wonder of those dark spots came from the body lying somewhere for some time. Also look how there is no movement in the body itself. It’s almost like a doll. Rigor mortis.”

 

Steve stepped closer trying to see what Tony explained to him.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“As I said not 100 percent. Unfortunately only one of the witnesses had a StarkPhone so the picture quality is not as good as I would wish for. But …”, and with a dramatic swirl he let the picture disappear and several new pictures of the child’s mother popped up, “… along with the facts that the mother was homeless, found dead a few days later and as confirmed by her autopsy had never been pregnant in her short life gives me enough material to believe that this was completely staged.”

 

Steve stared at the pictures in front of him. One taken from before the battle, her and the pram, several mugshots of her and the last one clearly taken in a morgue.

 

“What about the baby?”

 

“Interestingly enough there are no records for an autopsy of the baby, but a GoFundme-site collected money for its funeral. The funeral drew quite a large public attendance.” Tony pulled up several other pictures of a large black dressed crowd on a cemetery. Steve stared at the crowd, felt the wave of grief for a life lost at this young age, but the voice in his head that drowned ‘it’s your fault’ was not complete gone, but at least not as loud and insistent as it used to be.

 

“So what now?”

 

“Unfortunately the GoFundme account was set up in the ‘mother’s' name, so there is no lead. At the moment I look into disappearances or natural deaths of babies in the greater New York area for this time frame and let me tell you that this is a depressing research. So far I turned up nothing. I’m also looking in everybody publicly demanding the Avengers to stop or pubicly supporting them.”

 

“Why them?” Steve frowned.

 

“Because in my experience those who scream the loudest about something usually have something to hide. Until now I’m not exactly wrong,” he smiled wryly, “but unfortunately nothing what helps us.”

 

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Steve asked warily.

 

“No, you don’t want to know,” Tony confirmed.

 

“So what do we do now?”

 

“I’m not sure, apart from waiting there is not much we can do. Until Friday comes up with something relevant we have no lead.”

 

Steve looked at the screens in this workshop, looked at the projects on the desks, he could even identify some of those things, looked back to Tony.

 

“What about the graveyard? We could wait there.”

 

Tony gave him a long look.

 

“Why?”

 

“Maybe the real mother will come there.”

 

Tony stared at him with big eyes.

 

“You think the mother knows what happened to their child.”

 

“Maybe. It’s worth a shot.” Tony looked unconvinced.

 

“And I want to go there.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Tony immediately said.

 

“Yeah, I believe you in my head, but I still need to do this.”

 

For a while Tony studied him. In the end he just nodded.

 

“Okay, let’s go.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this chapter deals with the death of child, this time grieving it.

Tony walked seemingly aimlessly through the rows of tombstones and trees of the graveyard. It was a pretty nice graveyard, he supposed, more like a park. It also made it easier to hide the cameras he had brought with them. Mostly they were directed to the baby’s, no Cullen’s grave as the tombstone said, but some also covered a larger area if anybody interested in the grave wouldn’t go as near as Steve was right now.

 

Tony watched Steve standing in front of the tombstone decorated with a small angel. His head hang low and his shoulders were hunched and Tony knew that despite all of Tony’s evidence Steve still felt responsible for the death of this child. He hoped they would find the mother and learn something more about Cullen and the circumstances of his death, but above all he hoped that they’d find that he was right, that the kid had been already dead and hopefully hadn’t been murdered by Steve's mysterious blackmailer.

 

He settled on a nearby bench, keeping his gaze on Steve and their surroundings, but it was still early and not many people were at the graveyard. Also their corner was pretty secluded. It left him with more time to watch and worry about Steve. Tony knew guilt intimately, knew that Pepper and Rhodey tried to talk him out of it, argued with him until they all were hoarse from the screaming match those discussions usually evolved into. But they couldn’t really understand that guilt didn’t work that way. Guilt walked straight through all the arguments and settled into the lower pit of his stomach. He would always feel responsible for the deaths that had been caused by his weapons, his inventions, regardless how justified his actions had been, regardless how much Obie had orchestrated behind his back. There was always this burden on his shoulders and he had stopped a long time ago trying to explain this feeling to somebody else.

 

So he understood what Steve was feeling. He also knew that Cap didn’t deal particularly well with guilt. He could hide it, but from the few things he gathered regarding the Bucky/Winter-Soldier debacle Steve still felt responsible what had been done to the other man. Otherwise Sam wouldn’t be on a manhunt for months. Or this baby – Steve had dropped his shield, almost literally, and went into hiding.

 

They stayed in their respective spots for a long time, Steve in front of the grave and Tony on his bench. At some point he had taken his phone out, checking Friday’s progress on their investigations and seeing that there was no progress, working on some of his projects that had been neglected since his investigations. He was immersed in one of the technical specifications of a modified helicopter when Steve sat down next to him.

 

When Tony looked up, Steve looked tired.

 

“You okay?”

 

Steve sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

 

“Yes … No … I don’t know.”

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

The surprise on Steve’s face was evident.

 

“No, I don’t think so.” He smiled tentatively. “Thank you though,” he added belatedly.

 

“Not a problem,” Tony shrugged. “But if you change your mind …”

 

Steve looked at him searchingly. “You mean it?”

 

“Yes. I know a few things about guilt. And we are team mates. Or were, you know, whatever.”

 

For a long time they looked at each other. Tony felt suddenly too exposed under the scrutiny of those blue eyes and almost slumped with relief when Steve changed the topic.

 

“Do you think we should tell the others?”

 

“What is there to tell? We don’t have any proof that somebody is out there trying to destroy the Avengers. Look at me – Ultron. No one wants to see me back in the armor when there is a possibility that I created the need for it. Thor has things to do in Asgard. Bruce,” he shrugged, wondered a second about the right words, “also personal reasons. And we left before you. Rhodey was ordered back by the military. Sam is chasing Bucky’s bread crumbs. Clint was suspended. There is no pattern, nothing tangible.”

 

“I know, it’s just … from a tactical point of view … it makes sense to remove one after the other. I just know that someone is messing with the team.”

 

Yeah, Tony knew this, too. All his instincts were telling him so, but he tried to be more careful about his instincts and better check everything twice. Still, the niggling feeling in his head was hard to calm down

 

“Yes, but the only thing we have right now is someone targeting you specifically. Everything else could be coincidence,” he still argued.

 

“I don’t think so. After Ultron there weren’t that many people out for your head, at least not considerably more than before,” and Tony winced slightly, but still acknowledging the point. “But now it should have been – well, not forgotten – but at least not be in everybody’s mind anymore, but it still is. You were forced to leave your company, you have to hide in Brooklyn.” And Steve smiled teasingly at him, before turning serious again. “Someone is influencing the public opinion against the Avengers. Maybe even the military to call back Col. Rhodes. And since when is an argument with a bystander a reason to suspend someone? We would have been all benched one time or the other, you even more so than anybody else. So there should be something to find. We just have to look into everybody, from the press to the guy arguing with Clint.”

 

God, he was adorable, Tony thought.

 

“You want me to hack into the personal data of the members of the press, the congress or the military. You wouldn’t believe how disappointed I’m right now,” Tony laughed.

 

“You are telling me you didn’t already? Now, I’m disappointed,” and Steve smiled too.

 

“What can I say? I try to keep a low profile,” Tony joked.

 

“How’s that working for you?”

 

“I ended up in Brooklyn driving a family van.”

 

“There is nothing wrong with Brooklyn.”

 

Tony shook his head slightly. Of course, Steve would be offended by that.

 

“Yeah, that’s why you lived in a cabin in the woods.”

 

“It’s not that bad, you should try it sometimes.”

 

“Me, in the wilderness, without Wi-Fi, been there, done that, won’t buy the shirt.”

 

Tony smiled lazily at Steve, glad the other man was smiling back, glad the tension in his body had disappeared somewhat. Their smiles faded but their gazes lingered, and something almost forgotten came out from the hidden corner of his mind. A longing that he had never voiced, never acknowledged, but knew was there. Tony licked his lips and swallowed as he saw Steve breaking eye contact to watch the movement. Tension grew, tension that Tony was desperate to break. And he managed to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat.

 

“Do you want to wait?” He asked hoarsely and could feel the moment disappearing. Relief and disappointment battled for a moment, but in the end he managed to shove every idea about the man in front of him back where they belonged.

 

Steve’s eyes returned to his, searching for something. Whatever they found, he nodded slowly.

 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

 

He looked at Tony for a moment longer, until he turned and settled against the bench. Carefully Tony released his breath, imitating Steve’s position and trying to get back to his helicopter schematics. It took him more time than he liked to admit and even then he was the whole time much too aware of the body right next to him.

 

Although he categorized every one of Steve’s movements subconsciously, he didn’t know how much time really had passed when Steve suddenly tensed. Tony looked up. A small woman was approaching the grave, flowers and something that looked like a small toy in her hand. For a long time she just stood right in front of it, unaware of her surroundings, the wind playing in her dark curls. Only when she made the sign of the cross, Tony understood that she had been praying.

 

She knelt in front of the grave and they watched her tidying it. She picked up some leafs, pulled out some weeds. In the end she took one flower bouquet out of its vase to exchange it against the one in her hand before she sat the toy against the tombstone, joining a small collection of other toys already there.

 

“It seems we are in luck,” Tony whispered.

 

Steve’s answer was just a squeeze of his hand.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again warning for the grief of a death child.

Steve felt Tony moving next to him and immediately put his arm around him.

 

“No, wait, give her time.”

 

Tony looked at him.

 

“She lost her child, Tony.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Tony settled back on the bench and stared pointedly on Steve’s hand that still rested on his shoulder.

 

“Two men on a bench staring at a grieving woman – not a good sign. A couple enjoying some time off in a park, way better.”

 

“We are on a graveyard,” Tony protested.

 

“And the newspapers said you were kinky,” Steve could almost hear Clint applauding him for this statement.

 

“Yeah, for some reason graveyards don’t do it for me,” Tony replied with a huff before he pulled out his phone again. But instead of blueprints and schematics he pulled up a video feed on his phone. It didn’t take long for Steve to recognize the view. He saw the woman, but his gaze was drawn to them. Despite Tony’s misgivings they looked right, like a couple. And suddenly Steve realized how perfect Tony fitted at his side, how much he liked the warmth where their bodies touched. For a moment Steve got lost in the picture of them, but then Tony started working with it, cutting out the woman’s face and throwing it in some kind of search engine. At least that’s what Steve thought what he was doing.

 

“And we have an ID for our mysterious woman,” Tony murmured under his breath.

 

A fast dance with his fingers on the screen and all kind of windows popped up. It went far too fast for Steve to see anything on any of those windows, but apparently Tony knew what to do with all of this information since he murmured comments on his findings under his breath, but nothing that was of any use for Steve.

 

“Anything interesting?”, he asked finally.

 

“Marisa Rhys, 23, worked at a diner until some months ago, currently unemployed, member of several Facebook support groups for families losing their children to cancer,” Tony rattled through the information. “And I have an address.”

 

Tony looked up, apparently startled by their closeness and withdrawing slightly. Steve’s reaction was similarly instinctive, he just pulled him closer again until he could see himself clearly in those brown eyes. For a moment there was reluctance and Steve was about to give him some freedom, but then Tony relaxed.

 

“We talk to her after she gets home,” Steve decided.

 

Tony nodded slightly and settled back against Steve, even leaning his head slightly against Steve’s shoulder and Steve was still amazed how natural that felt, as if they should be always sitting that way.

 

* * *

 

 

Marisa Rhys lived in a block that clearly had his best days behind it. Even Tony’s non-descript car looked out of place, much too shiny for this street that seemed grim and dark even in the middle of the day. They had waited until Marisa had left the graveyard before Tony collected his camera equipment and they returned to the car. At a nearby coffee shop Tony had filled his caffeine addiction while Steve took the chance to grab a bite until they got Friday’s message that Marisa Rhys had returned to her home.

 

The front door of Marisa’s building was nothing more than better draft shield and Steve would have been really surprised if the lift had been working. The ‘out of order’ sign was so faded, he could barely make out the words. They made their way up the stairs and Steve could feel the curious looks of the neighbors even though he couldn’t see anyone. He knew from his childhood that the neighbors would notice almost anything, nothing would be missed by watchful eyes, but unless deemed necessary nothing would be revealed to any authorities. Maybe not even two men that looked clearly out of place in this part of town, even to people who didn’t recognize them.

 

There was not a sound to be heard from Marisa Rhys’ apartment, the sound of the doorbell almost shrill in contrast. It took their second attempt at ringing and some careful knocks at the door before Steve could hear moving behind it. The door was opened as far as the security chain would allow and Steve only got a short glimpse on green eyes before the door was closed again and then opened without the chain.

 

“I’ve been expecting you,” Marisa Rhys said before she waved them tiredly into the apartment.

 

The apartment wasn’t large, from the small hallway Steve could see one other door beside the one they were led through. The room they entered was clearly multifunctional. The sofa a convertible version, still unmade with crumpled sheets and pillows, a corner with a baby bed and baby clothes stacked on the sideboard next to it. Another corner was clearly set up as kitchen, the camping oven and a microwave the only tools for cooking meals. The old TV under the window was on, but muted.

 

Rhys slumped down on the sofa, grabbing a blue stuffed animal, and Tony took the chair in front of her. Steve took the pile of clothes from the remaining chair and also sat down, not wanting to look threatening. At the cemetery Rhys had given an air of confidence but here, in her own home she just looked devastated and kind of empty.

 

“You said, you’ve been expecting us? Why?” It was Tony who broke the silence.

 

Rhys looked up, her fingers tensing in the stuffed animal, her knuckles turning white.

 

“You know why?” And her voice sounded accusingly.

 

“What has happened?” Steve asked.

 

Green eyes met his and he could see tears simmering, barely held back.

 

“My baby, Cullen, … He was dying. The doctors … there was … there was nothing they could do … the medicaments didn’t work,” and one of the tears broke loose. “They said he only had two weeks left. Two weeks! He was a baby. How could he only have two weeks left,” she sobbed and tried to breathe calmly. “And one day somebody contacted me on Facebook, said there was only one thing I could do now.” The tears were flowing freely now.

 

“What was it he meant you to do?” Steve asked gently.

 

“He said the only thing left for me to do was giving Cullen a lovely farewell with flowers and a marble angel on his tombstone. But …,” she pointed helplessly at the rest of her flat, “I couldn’t afford that. I can barely pay for this hole.” She bit in her lip.

 

“At first I refused to listen to him, blocked him, but he was persistent. And then Cullen was gone,” she looked at Steve with tearful eyes, pain clearly written in the lines around her mouth, “and the mortician was so cold and he barely looked at Cullen and he would offer me nothing more than a glorified shoe box. And I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let my baby be buried in something like that.” Her tone was pleading now.

 

“So you contacted this person?” Steve prompted.

 

“Yes, yes, I did. He promised me the best funeral money could buy, everything for Cullen I could wish for.”

 

“And in exchange?”

 

“He wanted one day with Cullen’s body. He said he wouldn’t do anything to it, wouldn’t harm it. He promised and I … I said yes.” The last bit was whispered.

 

“What happened then?”

 

“Then those monsters attacked. And I watched the TV because what else could I do. But when I saw it, when I saw the baby and I knew it was Cullen, I knew it. How could I not recognize my baby? I didn’t know what to do, I wanted to hide but what about my Cullen?”

 

“What did you do?”, Steve asked.

 

“Nothing. What could I do? He had already lied, I … I was afraid what he would do. So I waited.”

 

“You didn’t get Cullen back?” Tony asked horrified.

 

“I did, eventually,” she turned to Tony. “But I saw on the news how money was collected for Cullen’s funeral and I thought he would give me the money, so that I could make the arrangements,” she bit on her lip. “But he used Cullen to ruin Captain America and then used him to get the money to further shame Captain America. I never thought he would do something like this. You have to believe me. Please, believe me.”

 

“I do.” In an instant Steve was at her side and took her hand. “I do.” Gently he pulled her towards him, moving his hand soothingly over her back.

 

“Why are you so nice? You had to disappear. I did that. I made Captain America disappear,” she sobbed in his chest.

 

“No, you didn’t. It wasn’t your fault,” Steve tried to calm her down, but the sobs just grew stronger.

 

“Can you describe him? Or do you know his name?” Tony tried to distract her, but he could see that she didn’t hear him. She just cried and sobbed against Steve’s chest and Tony could relate to that; knew how it felt to keep the tears burning in your eyes to yourself, wishing for Captain America to hold you.

 

It took a while until Marisa searched in her bed for tissues, blowing her nose loudly, while finally putting some distance between her and Steve. When she seemed composed enough Tony repeated his question.

 

“He called himself Tentacle. He was normal looking, I guess.”

 

For a moment Tony wondered if he should press for more details, but then he had a better idea.

 

“Do you have some paper and pencils?” Tony asked.

 

“Yes, somewhere,” she gestured vaguely in the room. “Why?”

 

“Maybe you could describe him to Captain America.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve suddenly turning to him.

 

“I don’t know,” Marisa hesitated.

 

“It’s worth a shot,” Tony tried to convince her. “He was an artist before the whole fighting Hitler stunt.”

 

He sensed more than he saw Steve’s sarcastic ‘thank you’ and for some reason it made him happy.

 

“There should be some paper in the drawer.” She pointed to the opposite side of the room. Tony stood up the get paper and pencils and handed them to Steve.

 

“There you go, Cap. Time to show your true colors.”

 

It was totally worth the exasperated head shake.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Steve was quiet on their ride back to Tony’s house. Tony looked at him from time to time, but he couldn’t sense any tension on him, he even seemed a bit lighter as if a weight or a dark cloud had been lifted. When he caught Tony looking he smiled slightly.

 

“What’s happening now?”

 

“Now we try to find this guy. I have not much hope for the portrait – no offense – …” – “None taken.” – “… but he looks so average that even I have the feeling I’ve met him before.”

 

He really did. Their bad guy was the definition of non-descript features, nothing remarkable to remember him by. It was certainly perfect for going by unnoticed, but at the moment Tony wished for some great scar or eye-catching birthmark. It made programming search algorithms that much easier. But a vague sense of having met him before was something he probably needed to invent a new code.

 

“I know, I could swear that I’ve seen him somewhere,” Steve shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

 

“I still let it run through Friday, maybe she can find something. But I do think that Marisa’s Facebook page could prove useful. Although I still wonder …?”

 

“What?”, Steve prompted.

 

“This guy went to extreme lengths to stop you. He did not kill you, he used yourself against you. And if it’s indeed your blackmailer than he also contacted you personally. I don’t know, Cap, it sounds as if you’ve made yourself an enemy.”

 

“I had enemies at least since I got the shield,” Steve argued.

 

“Yeah, I know some of your enemies, and they usually take the classical route. Fight you, try to kill you. But this guy must have studied you, he knew how you would react to something like that, that you would retreat. I mean I would probably have started drinking again …” – “Tony!” – “… It’s true, I would have, doing things carelessly,” he could hear Steve snorting, “okay, doing things even more carelessly, maybe killing myself by being Iron Man, but you, you would still try to protect your team.”

 

The traffic light changed to red and Tony used the chance to look at Steve. He saw the slight blush on Steve’s face.

 

“You have thought a lot about this.”

 

Tony tried to be nonchalant.

 

“Well, without the armor, and SI, and the partying I have a lot of time on my hands.”

 

Steve’s expression turned thoughtful, but before he could say anything, before Tony even knew if he wanted to know they were interrupted by Friday.

 

“Sir, Captain Rogers, this might interest you,” the AI stated before the radio was turned on.

 

_… We are live here at the headquarters of the Avengers were police and FBI are currently searching the facilities. Just a few minutes ago we could see one of them, Natasha Romanov, Codename Black Widow, being arrested…_

“Fuck!” Tony immediately pulled out of traffic and parked the car somewhat haphazardly.

_… As of now we have no official statement, but anonymous sources claim that Ms. Romanov is brought in for questioning regarding several leaks of state secrets to the public. Regarding Ms. Romanov’s past as a former spy for the KGB one have to ask why her loyalties weren’t questioned any further after she released the official shield databases to the public. She had been questioned by a senatorial committee, but pulled a Tony Stark and left the hearing. We certainly hope that this time the questioning will be more thorough …_

 

“So now Natasha, probably not a coincidence. Although I like the ‘pulled a Tony Stark’ expression. I hope it catches on.”

 

Steve flashed him a smile, before he turned serious. “You are probably right. This can’t be a coincidence. The universe is rarely so lazy.”

 

Tony turned around with a start.

 

“Did you just quote ‘Sherlock’ on me?”, he asked incredulously.

 

“It sounds better than ‘I don’t believe in coincidences’,” Steve smirked at him.

 

“You did. I can’t believe you did that. Can I say that I feel strangely proud?”

 

Tony watched fascinated as Steve’s blushed.

 

“Like you I had a lot of time on my hands,” he admitted sheepishly.

 

“So you caught up on pop culture. I like you priorities, Cap,” Tony grinned.

 

“It was that or thinking the whole time what I could have done differently. And I did that most of the other time so every distraction was welcome,” Steve explained, turning serious half-serious again.

 

“So that’s how it is, Captain America watches television instead of taking care of the Avengers,” Tony teased. “Next thing you hear he has turned in real couch potato gaining 100 pounds and scaring kittens in trees instead of rescuing them.

 

“Yeah, that’s why I came back to New York. I was running out of material to watch to finish my metamorphosis, but you had to drag me back into the Avengers business,” Steve deadpanned.

 

“When this mess is over, I will get you all the new material you wish for,” Tony promised.

 

“That’s very generous of you,” Steve responded with mock seriousness. “Could you please provide me also with enough food to gain those 100 pounds you mentioned?”

 

“Of course, my dear Captain, of course.” Tony flashed another grin at Steve before he became serious again.

 

“Joking aside, this fits right into the scheme.”

 

“Yes,” Steve sighed. “So now we are down to two Avengers to protect New York and they are the most unexperienced ones.”

 

“They have one year being an Avenger under their belt, and it’s not as if you left your shield at the cabin in the woods.”

 

“Or as if you didn’t have any access to any Iron Man suits.”

 

Tony acknowledged this point with a slight nod, before he explained. “It also means that we have another point of investigation. If someone is framing Natasha by leaking secrets to the internet, there has to be a digital trail we can follow.”

 

He heard Steve sigh again and when he sent him a questioning look the other man shrugged.

 

“It’s just … it’s you following the trail and I’m … I’m useless. I’d prefer to do something. Not just sit and wait.”

 

“Well, you can keep me company while I wait. Friday does most of the digital footwork; the only thing for me to do is checking the sub-routines and giving her new search ideas. And I’d say you can certainly help with the latter.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I have thought about what you said, some of it, okay. And it seems that you are right. Our friend Mr. Tentacle has some influence. A FBI investigation and the media is there to report live? Another lazy coincidence.”

 

“To be fair the media was never too far away from the Avengers facility,” Steve pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but they camped on the front lawn, figuratively speaking, they didn’t have anonymous sources.”

 

Steve seemed to think about it for a moment

 

“What do make of this?” He asked finally.

 

“I don’t know,” Tony admits. “Usually I’d say anybody targeting the Avengers is planning something big. It’s too subtle for most of our favorite organizations, no explosions, no deaths. But on the other hand you were personally addressed. But then why didn’t they stop after you left the Avengers. It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“So maybe both? Personal revenge and planning something big. Might have the additional effect that I would feel even more guilty and useless when I were not there to help.”

 

“We probably should take this as a working theory. Okay, let’s head back to workshop. Until we come up with something, we won’t know for sure. Hopefully it won’t take long until we find something.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

It took long to find something. Right now they had spent the last three days waiting. Or in Steve’s case exploring the whole Brownstone and its amenities including a ‘Captain America proved’ gym as Tony called it. He had tried working out his impatience with activity like exercising or cooking, but soon had figured out that the best way to endure it was staying close to Tony. They discussed things seriously and bickered as old friends and it was so easy, so natural that Steve wondered why they hadn’t done this before.

 

Although he knew why. Their bad start had lingered, and although they kind of agreed that things said on the helicarrier were not to be taken seriously, they also never apologized for each hurtful words. Plus, they had never been alone, just the two of them. And as Steve had learnt, there were too many layers to Tony that only were removed one by one when they ended up in one of those discussions that went so close to Steve’s heart. He would drown in the warmth of brown eyes, lulled in by a voice that promised everything he could wish for. If he were asked he would say it was his favorite time with Tony, but he had started appreciating all the time he could spend close to the man and even more that the feeling was apparently mutual.

 

Tony allowed him in his space all the time and Steve made good use of it. Right now he was leaning against one of the desks and watched Tony complaining about the lack of progress, the lack of reliable information and something else that Steve wasn’t too sure of. While he bit on his lip to hide his smile he admired the play of Tony’s muscles as he accentuated every complain with generous arm movements. Sometimes it was Tony’s throat that caught his attention, when he paused to take a swallow from his coffee cup. But most of the time Steve’s attention was drawn by Tony’s lips and when Tony licked them unconsciously Steve just thought ‘I want to kiss him’.

 

It wasn’t the startling realization it might have been. But it also wasn’t the first time that he had thought about kissing Tony. Only this time it felt as if it was a natural progress, as if he could just get up from his seat and take those two or three steps to Tony and just do it. He waited for, well he wasn’t quite sure, what he waited for, maybe the voice of reason telling him ‘no’. The nervous flutter of his heart, warning him that the wish to kiss may be one-sided. But while he watched Tony giving his frustrations a voice, nothing happened. Instead he remembered every warm smile, the lingering touches, the compliments.

 

And so Steve stood up and took the two and a half steps until he was right into Tony’s space. He put one hand on Tony’s hip, the other hand caressing Tony’s jaw, tracing the lines of Tony’s beard. Tony’s reaction consisted of putting his arm on Steve’s chest and raising an eyebrow as if asking ‘really?’. But he only stopped talking when their mouths were just inches apart.

 

The first connection of their lips was tentative as if they were both trying to decide whether or not this was the right angle, but Steve used the hand on Tony’s face to direct him in the right direction but maybe his hand just followed Tony’s movement anyway. Their next kiss was much more secure, just the right pressure, a not so careful nibbling until Tony involved a little tongue and Steve opened his mouth and the kiss turned heated.

 

By now they were pressed flush against each other. Steve’s hand had found a way under Tony’s shirt, delighted at meeting skin and imitating the movements Tony’s hand initiated under his shirt. When Tony started kneading his ass his moan was swallowed eagerly by Tony’s hungry mouth and without thinking about it, Steve grabbed the other man to place him on his workbench. Tony immediately opened his legs and Steve moved into the space grinding his crotch against Tony’s. He was happy to find his own erection mirrored, the first contact of their clothed cocks sending sparks of heat and pleasure through him.

 

It took too much effort but he managed to rip his mouth away from Tony, staring at him, at his dark eyes, the slight flush, the swollen and moist lips. “Are you sure,” he asked because now he needed to know. Tony simply rolled his eyes and lifted one of his arms to bury his hand in Steve’s hair before pulling him again down on his lips. His ‘yes’ was whispered into Steve’s open mouth.

 

When Tony started trailing kisses and bites down his jaw and his throat, Steve remembered how he admired the other man’s throat from afar and he used his supersoldier strength to carefully manhandle Tony in the right position. Judging from his moans and the way Tony moved his head to give him better access; Tony didn’t mind him taking control. But of course the other man didn’t stay passive. Instead he pulled up Steve’s shirt and Steve’s lips left Tony’s skin for a moment so that Tony could pull the shirt over his head.

 

Tony hummed appreciatively and Steve felt Tony’s hand exploring his chest, sliding down to cup his cock through the trousers. The delicious pressure forced a moan out of Steve’s chest and he had to steady himself against Tony, suddenly weak in his knees and much too close to the edge. He managed to lift his head and found Tony’s eyes, almost black with arousal, burning into him. Steve rested his forehead against Tony’s and watched as the other man’s fingers slipped into his trousers and freeing his cock.

 

The first contact of Tony’s fingers around his cock let him shiver helplessly. He could sense the satisfied smirk on Tony’s lips but Tony’s thumb sliding over the tip and spreading the precum derailed the slight trace of irritation. Instead he tried clumsily to claim Tony’s lips again. Tony met his lips eagerly, but never letting go of his cock.

 

It was a delicious torture, slowly and delicate, but with enough variation to keep Steve right there on the edge. What little coordination he had left, he concentrated on getting Tony naked or at least touching his skin. He managed to rip his shirt, so that he had access to Tony’s collarbone and let his head drop on his shoulder, inhaling Tony’s scent and pressing open mouthed kisses to his skin. His fingers dug into Tony’s hips when a particularly delicious stroke brought Steve nearer to completion.

 

“I’m close,” he whispered.

 

“I’ve got you,” was Tony’s equally whispered answer and he felt a tender kiss into his hear.

 

It was the soft caress that went beyond the passion of the moment that did it. With a strangled moan he came, collapsing against Tony, losing himself in the sensation.

 

The first thing he noticed when he came back to himself was Tony. Tony stroking his back tenderly with one hand, the other steadying him at his hip, his head leant against Steve’s. Vaguely he wondered where Tony had cleaned his hand, but felt too sated to really care. Instead he raised his head and looked at Tony who smiled at him softly.

 

“Hey,” was the soft greeting before Tony kissed him, soft and tender.

 

“Hey yourself,” was all Steve managed as reply and he grinned in return when he saw Tony’s eyes laughing at him.

 

“Do you mind helping me out, soldier?” With this Tony directed one of Steve’s hands to his own crotch. Steve felt the hardness and eagerly traced its outline.

 

“What do you want?”

 

With a half-suppressed groan Tony muttered: “Don’t care, whatever you want, won’t last.”

 

Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“We can go something fancy the next round,” Tony growled and Steve liked the sound of it, the promise that this was something more than a fling in the workshop. He slid his fingers in Tony’s pants and pushed them down. For a moment he let his fingertips run along the veins, before he curled his hand around Tony’s cock.

 

“Fast?”

 

“Oh, yes, fast, please,” Tony’s answer was barely more than a moan and Steve set up a punishing pace, studying Tony’s expression for guidance. It was now Tony’s turn to pant against his skin and Steve loved this, loved the idea that he could render Tony as helpless as he had made him, loved the knowledge that they both enjoyed what they could do to each other.

 

Tony had been right, it only took a few strokes for him to spill but Steve continued until Tony stopped him. Wondering what to do with his hand and the remains of Tony’s orgasm he lifted it looking for some piece of cloth or even his shirt to wipe his hand clean, but then he remembered the taste of Tony’s skin and some part of him needed to know if every part of Tony tasted this good.

 

Upon his first lick Tony groaned: “God, you are a menace.”

 

“Am I?”

 

“Yes, you are.” And with this Tony pulled Steve closer to him, encircling his hips with his legs and threw both arms around Steve’s neck. Tony kissed him, deep and full of feelings and only the slight touch of heat. Steve wanted nothing more than to stay here forever and kiss a naked Tony in his arms, but then Tony whispered ‘take me to bed, soldier’ he was really happy to follow an order.


	8. Chapter 8

Waking up with another man in his arms was nothing new for Steve. European winters tended to be very cold and army supply regarding warm blankets was always low, so sharing body heat was the way to sleep. Waking up with another man with whom you had sex with on the other hand, was somewhat new. He wondered what the protocol for this was, and if there was a protocol, whether he should do just the opposite because the person lying on top of him was Tony Stark. And he felt himself smile because Tony Stark was on top of him and how could he not have known that he needed this in his life.

 

“Stop thinking,” came the complaint from the otherwise unmoving man.

 

“Sorry,” Steve lifted his head up and pressed a kiss in the mess of dark curls he could reach.

 

“Why are you awake anyway?”

 

“It’s daytime,” Steve offered.

 

Tony lifted his head as if to confirm this statement. Steve expected him just fall back on his chest, but instead Tony stretched to press a light kiss on his lips before he watched him searchingly. Steve had no idea what Tony was looking for but didn’t have to wonder long about it.

 

“So, is this going to be awkward and in the end we will be avoiding each other and be terribly polite. Or …”

 

Steve braced himself.

 

“Or?”

 

Tony looked at him again for a minute.

 

“Or is this something we will be regularly doing?” The words were rushed, tumbled almost together, but Steve understood the question loud and clear.

 

“Like a relationship?”, he nevertheless clarified.

 

“Or friends with benefits?” Tony offered and it stung a little.

 

“Is this what you want?”

 

“I asked you first,” Tony stated petulantly.

 

Steve let out an exasperated breath at the lack of clear answers, almost tempted to avoid the serious talk they were apparently having. But the he decided to be brave, he had been braver for stupider things. He could do this.

 

“I want the relationship, but I take everything you are willing to give.”

 

For a moment he wasn’t sure if Tony had heard him and with a every second passing he felt more and more insecure. The other man was staring at him with an unreadable expression; before he suddenly crushed his mouth to Steve’s and then bolted upright.

 

“You are a genius and I’m an idiot,” he declared when he almost ran out of the bedroom grabbing his trousers on the way out, leaving Steve lying in the bed wondering what the hell had happened. Steve was pretty sure that this declaration had nothing to do with their previous discussion which was confirmed by Tony’s next words.

 

“Also yes to the whole relationship thing.”

 

Steve let his head drop back on the bed for a moment, allowing himself a small happy smile, before he decided to follow Tony and get a more thorough explanation. On the relationship thing or on Tony’s apparent flash of inspiration. And maybe he could get a few kisses. He would like that. He made a stop in the bathroom and in his guestroom to get clean clothes before he went down to the workshop where Tony was already rapidly typing and muttering to Friday.

 

Steve risked stepping up close to Tony and kissing him between his shoulders. He was delighted when Tony awarded him with a pat on his head and kissed Tony’s hair before he leant against the desk Tony was working on, close but not touching him.

 

“So what about me being a genius?” he asked.

 

Tony threw him a look and a small grin.

 

“Do you remember when I said that I couldn’t trace the source of the Facebook contact because of the encryption code the guy used?”

 

“Yes,” Steve recalled some rants and very creative curses in this regard.

 

“It’s my own code.”

 

That was unexpected.

 

“How …?”

 

Tony threw another glance in Steve’s direction, apparently checking his reaction.

 

“How could I not recognize my own code?” That was not what Steve had meant, he had felt more betrayed on Tony’s behalf that someone would do this to him, but before he could find the words to explain it to him, Tony already continued his explanation.

 

“It’s the code I installed in the StarkPhones last year and I really don’t know how many lines of code I’ve written since then. Besides it’s a self-learning code. The original code was made by me, but the system adapts to the needs and wishes of his owner. And don’t worry I didn’t make murder phones.”

 

“I didn’t,” Steve answered honestly. “So what does this mean? Can you crack it?”

 

“Probably yes, now that I know what I’m looking at. But this is a very limited edition of the StarkPhone and only a few selected people received this advanced version of it – you know like the president or my board of directors for example. And each phone had a slight variation, like a serial number in his code, so I can trace every phone back to its owner.”

 

Tony gave the keyboard a final tap and the long lines of code disappeared from the screen and instead a picture appeared.

 

“Hah, got you.”

 

“That’s Mr. Tentacle,” Steve said.

 

And it was. Marisa’s description hadn’t been that great, but in front of them was a photograph of the man he had drawn.

 

“Or just Mr. Tacle. Theodore Edward Norton Tacle, to be precise.”

 

“You know him,” Steve concluded.

 

“Oh, yes, I know him. He is a pain in the ass. He is also a member of the board of SI, kind of inherited the place from his father. His father was a Senator and also a board member, and only when they changed the law regarding extra-income for Senators, son quit his day job at the Pentagon and became one of SI’s board members.”

 

“Son of a senator, you say?”

 

“Yes, and as I said, former Pentagon paper pusher. Has a hell of a lot connections. I guess that’s why my father went with the exchange. Tacle was one of those who protested the most when I closed down the weapon’s manufacture.”

 

“When he was so heavily opposed why is he still on the board.”

 

“The money, early access to groundbreaking tech,” Tony shrugged. “He is not the only one of the old directors that doesn’t like the direction SI is taking now but as long as it’s making profit they mostly keep their opinions to themselves. Also it’s not so easy to get rid of directors and besides, as I said, he’s got good contacts to the Senate and the military. I may be not in the weapon’s business anymore but I still like to sell some of the stuff I invented to the military. And Pepper claims he is sensible guy. But apparently even Pepper can be wrong.”

 

Steve had to smile at that.

 

“That explains why he doesn’t like you, but what has he got against the Avengers?”

 

“And especially you.”

 

“And me,” Steve conceded.

 

“Let’s see. Friday can you find me anything about my friend Mr. Tacle here. Social media, public appearances, especially anything to do with the Avengers.”

 

“Certainly, Sir,” the AI replied before one of the larger screens was filled with pictures and articles. They both stepped closer, looking through the material. Some of them were dismissed immediately; some of the articles received at least some screening. But it was Steve who found something. A picture of him and this guy with a woman on the other side. He enlarged it to show it to Tony. Tony moved the rest of the material to the side.

 

“Okay, let’s find the girl.”

 

It took only a few seconds before another flood of pictures and information was spread out on the screen.

 

“Tammy Lynn Richardson. Looks she was a real Avengers fan,” Tony pointed out several pictures where the woman wore shirts and caps that Steve recognized as official Avengers merchandise.

 

“And she was Tacle’s girlfriend until about one year ago,” Steve showed Tony a newspaper article.

 

“When was the picture with you taken?”

 

“I don’t know,probably shortly before.”

 

“And afterwards they broke up. Maybe she was even more of a casual fan.”

 

Steve blushed.

 

“It’s not only Captain America merchandise she is wearing.”

 

Tony nodded.                                             

 

“Still interesting timing.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“So, let’s see. Friday, can you pull up the material of the last Avengers fight, especially the scene when Barton is having the row with the civilian?”

 

Steve was not surprised when the video footage appeared. On the screen he could clearly identify Tacle as the one approaching Clint.

 

“Son of a bitch,” Steve cursed.

 

Tony hummed in agreement before he asked.

 

“So to whom do you want to talk first? Him or the girlfriend?”

 

Before Steve could make up his mind Friday announced an incoming call.

 

“Sir, it’s Mr. Tacle for Edward Krats.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Several heartbeats after Friday’s announcement both he and Steve stood still, too surprised to say something.

 

“That’s a coincidence.”

 

Steve just raised an eyebrow, so Tony squared his shoulders and gave Friday the signal to accept the call.

 

“Hello Mr. Tacle. I must admit I’m surprised hearing from you. What can I do for you?”

 

“Really, you are surprised?” Mr. Tacle feigned surprise. “If you are that slow maybe I’ve been invested in the wrong firm for the whole time, Mr. Krats.” He paused meaningfully. “Or should I better say, Mr. Stark.”

 

With a tap of his hand Tony switched the voice modulator off.

 

“I see you found out my secret. So the question remains, what can I do for you?”

 

A strange sound came through the speakers and in took Tony a moment to realize that it was a giggle. He wondered if the bad guys at some point in their careers had to start laugh strangely. If so supervillainy was even more unappealing.

 

“Well, my dear Mr. Stark, that depends on if you found out my secret. Or were you too busy staring adoringly in the dear Captain’s eyes. Oh yes, I know all about you. Obie was one of my best friends and even best man at my wedding. He told me all about you. You think you can hide, but not from me.”

 

Tacle’s mention of Obie put a few more puzzle pieces into place and he shot a look at Steve. It was met with a slight worry and so much warmth, that he couldn’t help but smile. Steve’s answering smile was something he would always cherish.

 

“So, we can guess why you are working against Tony. But why are you fighting the Avengers, Mr. Tacle?,” Steve asked and Tony raised his eyebrows at him questioningly. He interpreted Steve’s answering shrug and tilt of his head as ‘why not’. With the universal sign ‘your turn’ he left the conversation to Steve who thanked him with another small smile and squeeze of his shoulder.

 

“Hello, my dear Captain. It’s so nice to hear from you. I thought you would stay in the woods, but I guess you heroes must always do some rescuing.” Tony had never before heard the Avengers’ work described so contemptuously and that did include anything Fox News said about them.

 

“I wouldn’t need to do some rescuing if you weren’t pulling the strings behind. So why us? Why me?”

 

“Why do you think I would tell you?”

 

“Because you called us. Because you tried to blackmail me. You tried to get my attention and now you have it and I want to know why?”

 

For a moment there was silence on the other end, but then Tacle burst out.

 

“You are impossible. You are an impossible standard for us to reach. No man can compare to you and no man should. They should see you as you really are. How could you do this to us?”

 

“What did I do to you?”

 

“She left,” now Tacle sounded vicious. “She left and it’s your fault. If you haven’t met her … You are going to pay for it. You’ll see. You both will pay for it.”

 

The line went dead and they both looked at each other. Under other circumstances this might have been comical, but at the moment they didn’t feel like laughter.

 

“I really don’t understand what just happened,” Tony said.

 

“Neither do I,” Steve admitted, “but I’m sure that we have to stop him. The sooner the better.”

 

“There go my plans for the afternoon,” Tony joked.

 

Steve snorted. “There will be other afternoons. And As if you would have stopped after what we’ve just heard.”

 

Tony leant very close to Steve and whispered. “But I would have been tempted.” Steve’s slight exhale was something he saved to review later.

 

Leaning back he called out. “Friday, can you give me a location for Mr. Tacle.”

 

“Do you really think it will be that easy?” Steve asked him.

 

“Oh yes, I do!” Tony’s optimism was confirmed a moment later when Friday announced an address in an industrial sector just outside the city.

 

“I get my shield.” Steve was already walking out of the door.

 

“I have a new uniform for you,” Tony called after him.

 

* * *

 

 

They decided to take car to the address instead of the Iron Man armor, both not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from third parties to them. Steve had already changed into one of the uniforms Tony had designed for him. In his head and maybe out loud Tony called it the ‘stealth-suit of awesome’ and the most awesome thing about it was that Tony somehow managed to keep his hands to himself. At least for the moment, but he hoped Steve would be open to some role play. The suit was simply black, similar to Natasha’s and Clint’s outfits, but made out of new fiber that was bullet and fire proof. Tony was dressed in one his undersuits, made from a similar fiber; the armor was in the trunk, just a touch of a button away.

 

Steve had a tablet in front of him, already studying the layouts of the building they were heading to.

 

“It’s an old factory building,” he explained.

 

“Talk about cliché,” Tony murmured.

 

Steve ignored him. “Several entrances, three levels including a basement, one large hall for machinery as I see it. Not the best place for an attack if we are only two.”

 

“Especially since he is expecting us,” Tony added to the bad news. “So, what’s the plan?”

 

“We go in, find him, arrest him and give him to the authorities.”

 

“That’s the plan, really?” Tony threw an incredulous look in Steve’s direction.

 

“Yes, that’s the plan. Do you have a better idea?”

 

“No, but I expected something with a little more finesse and secrecy. You are said to be tactical mastermind.”

 

“We both know that this is a trap and there are likely some nasty surprises for us. He expects us, so we don’t have the element of surprise. So I’m saying let’s forget about finesse and just go in.”

 

There was a slightly defensive note in Steve’s voice and Tony hastily tried to assure him.

 

“You are the boss – and we are there.”

 

Tony parked the car in front of the hall and they both walked the few steps to the main entrance, every step accompanied by the soft clicks of the Iron Man armor assembling around him. As soon as the gauntlets were on his hands he raised them defensively, and Steve adjusted his shield from protecting them both to his standard ‘prepare for combat’ position. He could see Steve checking the perimeters but apparently found nothing.

 

They approached the doors and although Tony’s hud didn’t show any sign of life or unusual devices he opened them carefully to risk a peak inside since his head was protected. But there was nothing on the other side of the door and they made their way slowly through the former reception area of the building. They repeated this process two times until they were in the main hall where they finally found signs of life.

 

Theodore Tacle stood in front of them, but right now he didn’t look like the plain and unremarkable guy next door. He had a helmet on that reminded Tony of Darth Vader and instead of his legs there were tentacles growing out of his body. With their entrance all tentacles moved as if on cue and were now pointed at them. Even worse all of them were carrying some kind of enormous guns.

 

But the worst part were the three figures hanging above Tacle from the ceiling. Tony’s heart clenched as he recognized Pepper and it took him a moment to identify the other two women: Marisa Rhys and Tammy Lynn Richardson.

 

“So how do you like my surprise?,” Tacle asked and started firing.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve immediately ducked behind his shield while Tony started his repulsors and tried to draw the fire on himself. It didn’t work quite as well as intended but at least Steve managed to reach cover behind one of the machines. Not that it helped very much, since the stream of bullets didn’t stop and they ricocheted through the hall.

 

“Can you distract him, Iron Man? I try to get to the hostages.”

 

“Already trying here. But there is not much cover for you up there, Cap.”

 

“That’s why you are flying in a shiny red suit, so I won’t need that much cover.”

 

“You say the nicest things.”

 

Steve risked a glance and saw the armor in the middle of the hall, dodging several tentacles and trying to fight back with his repulsor blasts. They didn’t seem to have much of an effect, but luckily the same could be said about the bullets.

 

Steve put his shield back on his back and started climbing the ladders to get to the hostages. The large machines in the hall covered his progress, but also left him without a view on the battle. He didn’t like not knowing what happened on the battle field all the time, and what he gathered from Tony’s commentary of the battle didn’t reduce his worry. Apparently those tentacles proved to be very difficult to take care of, so Steve was relieved when he could catch a glimpse of Tony cutting one off with some kind of laser.

 

He was now by the most difficult part where he could be seen from the other battle, but decided to risk it since Tony had until now managed to keep the battle down. The first few feet were easy, but then he sensed that Tacle had noticed him. He had his shield in his hand, but before Tacle could reach him Iron Man swept in, colliding with the tentacles grabbing for Steve and Steve practically started to sprint up the stairs, trying to get out of reach as far as possible.

 

Steve had given up all attempts at silence and concentrated only on his progress, but in the back of his mind he registered the noises of repulsors and metal beating against metal. It didn’t sound good and when he felt he was safely out of reach he risked a glance at Tony.

 

What he saw made his heart stop. Three tentacles had winded themselves around Tony and he could see Tony struggling in the armor, but he couldn’t move. Steve still heard him through the com, but that was just more or less heavy breathing with heavy cursing. With horror he watched another tentacle approaching the armor holding again a gun. It looked different than the guns they had been greeted with and a moment later he knew why it was different. It was an EMP gun and Steve saw the arc reactor flickering out and the sudden lack of noise in his ear was terrifying.

 

Tacle pressed some kind of panel on his arm and the three tentacles holding Tony were released and falling down on the ground with a shattering noise, taking the lifeless armor with them. It was horrible, so, so horrible and for a moment Steve wanted to go down, wanted to check on Tony and it was Tacle starting to climb on the machines to get up to him, that spurred him into motion.

 

He started climbing on the beam were the hostages hung, slowly edging nearer, when one of the tentacles slung himself around the beam and pulled. With a horrible sound the beam broke and Steve could only barely catch himself from falling. He looked at the other side of the beam where the three women hung, all three of them unconscious. And all three of them were slowly sliding down the now broken beam. In an instant he calculated the odds of him jumping to their side and stopping their certain fall to death. He looked for Tacle and then took his shield, throwing it so that it would end up in the beam as a blockage for the women.

 

With a last look at Tony, still unmoving and covered in the remains of the tentacles Steve started to climb to the roof. He could feel the shift in the beam as Tacle used one of his tentacles to pull himself further up. A long jump and he reached the trap door to the roof and was through it in an instant.

 

The roof was a clustered mess of chains and concrete blocks, three cranes and a cable winch as remains from when the hall still had been in function. There was not much cover so when the first tentacle came after him he took the hook from the cable winch and pierced it through the tentacle before releasing it. Tacle was dragged to the side of the building before he released the tentacle.

 

Steve didn’t wait until Tacle regained secure footing with his remaining three tentacles, just threw one of the concrete blocks on another one of the tentacles. Judging from the sparks that errupted, it was also out of commission. This was confirmed by Tacle’s angry scream as he followed Steve furiously on two tentacles.

 

Steve was balancing on the edge of roof having grabbed the hook of one of the cranes. A shot to his feet stopped him and he turned. Tacle stood in front of him, heavily breathing but the weapon in his hand was pointed steadily at Steve.

 

“Drop it or I’m going to kill you.”

 

“You kill me anyway.”

 

“Maybe,” Tacle answered. “But maybe I’d like to torture first.”

 

Steve gripped the hook harder, he could feel the draw of the chain pulling it back to its crane.

 

“Drop it now.”

 

And Steve did.

 

It took Tacle a second longer to realize what would happen, but he couldn’t move his tentacle fast enough. Steve watched as the chain tore right through the tentacle, leaving Tacle unbalanced. As if in slow motion Tacle tipped to the side until gravity set in and he started to fall. Steve jumped after him. In the last moment he grabbed Tacle’s arm; holding him. Tacle’s remaining tentacle hung lifeless below Tacle. Steve reached out with his other arm, trying to grab another part of Tacle, but the other man remained still.

 

“Give me your other arm,” Steve urged and for a moment it seemed as if Tacle would do as asked.

 

“You really are a hero, aren’t you?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Too bad.”

 

The lifeless tentacle sprung back to life and grabbed Steve and dragged him slowly over the edge. Steve tried to get up, to resist the movement but the tentacle kept him immobilized and Steve only managed to grab the corner of the roof to keep himself from falling, his finger nails drilling in the concrete. He tried to wrestle out of the arm, but he could feel himself losing his grip.

 

The sudden blast of repulsors was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and the only warning he got before the weight dragging him down disappeared. A moment later a metal clad hand wrapped itself around his middle and steadied him while he tried to step on Iron Man’s shoes.

 

When he was stable, they both looked down where Tacle’s body lay. The body a strange arrangement of limbs, the remaining tentacle lying a few feet apart. There was practically no chance that Tacle was alive, but when Tony lowered them to the ground, he still checked the pulse.

 

“He is dead,” he confirmed and Tony nodded.

 

Tony put up his faceplate. “You alright.”

 

“Yes,” he confirmed and stood up. “What about you?” He closed the distance to the armor, raising his hands to feel Tony’s warmth and chase the image of the lifeless armor away.

 

“I’m good,” was Tony’s answer and then he pulled him flush against the armor until there was no more space between them. The smooth surface felt strange against his body, but the feeling of the kiss he remembered.


	11. Chapter 11

Epilogue

 

_3 months later_

 

“God, I thought she would never stop talking,” Tony complained as he pulled off his shirt.

 

Steve was already in their bed – and he liked the feeling of warmth every time he thought of a bed as their bed – and enjoyed the view. He had enjoyed it almost daily in the last three months since Tony and he usually spent their nights together – either at the Avenger’s facility, at the tower or most of the time at the Brownstone.

 

He had very fond memories of this bedroom, and it had the added bonus that Pepper wouldn’t come by unannounced to force Tony to do something for Stark Industries since the newest Board member Tammy Lynn Richardson was an enthusiastic supporter of Tony Stark. And she had enough connections of her own, including some members of a committee looking into the allegations against another member of the Avengers.

 

“It’s not every day that you save the girl and prove her innocence to a disbelieving world.”

 

Steve was merely thankful for Tammy’s help in this regard that he hadn’t minded her endless chatter. He had it minded even less when he had seen how much she had cared for Marisa Rhys who was now working as her assistant. Being wronged by the same guy apparently was enough of a bond. Even Natasha had been nice to Tammy.

 

“Don’t let Natasha hear you calling her a damsel in distress,” Tony grinned. “She would show you distress and you’ve kind of grown on me.”

 

“I’ve kind of grown on you,” Steve raised an eyebrow when Tony, now fully naked, made his way into the bed, pushing the sheets aside and crawling directly over him.

 

“Yes, you have,” Tony confirmed. By now he was hovering directly over Steve. “You make me feel young because the last time Rhodey and I lived together was at MIT.” Tony’s eyes were dancing over him as he pressed a small kiss to Steve’s left eyebrow. “You let me keep the Avengers to play.” Steve’s amused snort was somewhat muffled by another small kiss, this time to his cheek. “You bring me coffee.” The kiss ended on his nose. “You let me make love to you.”

 

The last kiss ended on his mouth and Steve’s heart sang. They hadn’t said ‘I loves you’ in the three months of their relationship but sometimes Tony would say things like this and kiss him so earnestly that made him sure those words weren’t that far away.


End file.
